


for your hands

by orphan_account



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-05-03 12:40:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5291234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’re going to have chronic back pain by the time you’re twenty.” Ronan threw himself on Adam’s bed. Straight-backed and alert came naturally to him. Parrish, he suspected, had trained himself to take up as little space as possible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	for your hands

**Author's Note:**

> this is very un-edited im sorry

Adam was thinking about the velocity of angular projectile motion when Ronan knocked on his door.

It was an instantly recognizable knock, one sharp and somehow assured rap, an everyday action Ronan had managed to carve a signature of himself into as he often did. The way he turned the pages of a book. His peculiar grip on a pen. Each step purposeful and controlled. Everything Ronan did was a mark of danger, a not so gentle reminder to the world that he was always aware of his surroundings. One day, Adam thought, self-assurance would be muscle memory for him, too.

“Come in.”

Ronan found Adam slouched over his tiny desk, rewriting a hellish physics problem for the umpteenth time. Like Ronan had his movements, Adam had a way of going about every task is if it were a matter of life and death. To him, it was.

“You’re going to have chronic back pain by the time you’re twenty.” Ronan threw himself on Adam’s bed. Straight-backed and alert came naturally to him. Parrish, he suspected, had trained himself to take up as little space as possible.

“Hm.” Adam wasn’t really listening, wasn’t really thinking or the homework would have been vanquished long ago. Ronan studied him, wondering where he was; Cabeswater, work, a memory, or somewhere dark in his mind that Ronan knew existed but couldn’t imagine the awfulness of. Adam absently gnawed at the dry skin on his knuckles, still gripping the pencil, and Ronan noticed the manibus he had left him, sitting on the table. For your hands.

“Come here. You need to relax before you get any of that shit done.”

Adam was glad for the excuse to lie down, sinking his head into a lumpy pillow.

“Take off your shirt.” Adam only raised his eyebrows in vague surprise at Ronan. “You need a massage. Don’t look at me like that, Parrish.”

Adam cautiously obeyed, pulling the thin white fabric over his head. His skin was a sepia desert, faded scars marking the surface like sand dunes. “Put your shoulders back. Sit like a functioning human being, my God. You don’t take care of yourself.” Ronan swiped some of the dream lotion on his hands and positioned himself behind Adam, putting his hands on the other boy’s shoulders. Adam felt himself tense and chill, not because of startle response but because of Ronan’s warm, calloused palms.   
He began kneading into Adam’s shoulder bones. “What the fuck is this, your back is literally one big knot.”

“Sorry?” Adam said.

“Shut up. You did this to yourself, Parrish.” Neither of them talked as Ronan continued probing his contorted muscles. He dug into the side of his shoulder and Adam made a small, contented noise. He had never bothered with minor physical ailments because, as he saw it, he had bigger problems to deal with, but this was soft and calming.

“What the-” Ronan faltered, and Adam looked down to see grass sprouting beneath them.

“Cabeswater.” Ever since the sacrifice, strong emotion had brought on inexplicable plant growth. An unprecedented caveat.

“Not just that.”

“What do you mean?” Adam stretched his neck, trying to peer down his back, suddenly apprehensive.

“Look in the mirror.”

The grass wasn’t all that Cabeswater had sent. Snaking down his spine, changing and twisting, were shapes that matched Ronan’s strange tattoo.  “Oh my God.”

“Why is that happening?” Ronan said accusingly, as if Adam had stolen it from him. He pulled off his own shirt, feeling the need to check if it was still there. It was, but it was moving. In rhythm with Adam’s, they complemented and matched each other. And, magic or not, they were both standing shirtless in the tiny bathroom of Adam’s apartment and they were both suddenly very, very aware of the fact. Adam saw the slight blush rushing to his cheek, and noticing it only made it worse. Ronan snickered.

“This is your fault, Lynch.”

Adam turned and caught Ronan’s eye and the snarky response he had prepared plummeted to the pit of his stomach.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three seconds.

And Adam didn’t remember the decision, only the action, except this time it wasn’t rage and a nightstand knocked over, it was something else and his hand pressed against Ronan’s cheek, their faces frighteningly close. Ronan’s eyes were the bottomless pool at Cabeswater, and Adam wanted desperately to drown in them.

And the distance between them was closed and later, both of them would say it was the other who had done it, and both would deny it, it was neither and it was both and it was magic, and they were kissing. Ronan’s lips were uncharacteristically soft as the forest’s unreal moss, Adam was both hesitant and desperate, and they were both filled with the same kind of wanting that had defined Adam’s life for years.

Ronan pressed his chest against Adam’s and just like that they were leaning against the bathroom sink and all Adam could think was that it probably wasn’t good for his posture and he almost laughed but Ronan bit his lip and he drew a shaky hand tight around his hip in response. The counter was digging uncomfortably into him so Adam let Ronan take three unsteady steps to bring them back to the bed.

The grass was gone and it was now brilliant moss that enveloped them. Adam found Ronan’s thigh between his legs and he inhaled sharply. Ronan took this as a sign to continue and began moving his weight against Adam.

“Wait.” Adam shook his head to clear it and just like that Ronan’s walls went back up. He sat up.

“Shit. Shit, I’m sorry, I’ll just-” He avoided Adam’s gaze, screaming at himself internally. Fucking idiot.

“No-” Adam surprised himself. “I mean, stay. I just..” He let out a slow breath. “I’m not used to this.”

Ronan nodded, beginning to understand, but still tasting Adam on his lips. “Okay.”

Adam searched for the words, knowing he had to pick them out carefully, watching his voice because it could betray him. “I… want this. I do. Just… carefully. Slowly.” So he didn’t freak out. That part was implied. “It’s not. Easy for me. Or- I don’t know. Is that okay with you?”

“I understand.” And he did, he really did. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Wait-” Adam grabbed his wrist as Ronan started to leave. “It’s late. You can… stay here.” And by here Adam meant in his bed.

Ronan’s eyes said, are you sure? And Adam tried his best to give a resounding yes with his gaze. 

It must’ve worked, because Ronan carefully returned to the mossy sheets. And then, even more carefully, put an arm around Adam. Adam thought about it for half a second, then put his hand on Ronan’s. And they didn’t say another word.

 


End file.
